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“None,” I admit, feeling desperate and vulnerable in a way I hadn’t until this moment. I’m tired and scared, but my heart’s beating fast.
He puts a hand on my leg. “If I overplan and obsess over every detail, it seems as though you’re the total opposite.”
“What can I say? I’m very spontaneous.”
“How spontaneous exactly are you, Camille?” He leans closer to me, eyebrows raised, and I hear the real question in his tone.
I finish my glass of champagne. “Honestly? Right now, all I want to do is forget.”
“Is that why you asked me to stay?”
I pause for a long moment before slowly nodding, holding his gaze.
What the hell am I doing right now?
Am I really trying to seduce this guy?
I must’ve gone insane.
But Evander reaches out and strokes a thumb down my chin. I suck in a breath, moving closer to him, every pore and nerve tingling with excitement.
He leans forward, his lips finally brushing against mine, and I can’t take it anymore.
I want this.
I want him to kiss me.
I have to feel him kiss me, right now, right this second, or I’m going to lose my mind.
I need to know—I need to find out.
I have to feel what it’s like to kiss another man.
Because I’m terrified I’ll never get another chance.
The pressure’s too much—maybe it’s my desperation, maybe my fear, maybe I just want to feel good for once in my pitiful life.
Maybe it’s just this guy’s stupid sexy forearms and his low, growling voice.
Whatever it is, I want him.
“Would you be upset if it was?” I whisper.
“Not even a little bit,” he says.
And he kisses me like he’s trying to save my life.
His taste assaults me. Grass and whiskey and champagne. His purr of pleasure as our tongues dance drives a spike of need deep into my core. His lips are both firm and soft, and there’s nothing tentative about him, nothing probing or uncertain. He wants this kiss. He’s taking this kiss. God, it feels so good, a shiver rolling down into my spine.
We hold that kiss for seconds, hours, a lifetime—
Until he pulls me into his lap, my legs spread and straddling him. I blink rapidly in surprise and can feel something thick and stiff between my legs and—holy shit, that’shim.
His eyes burn into mine as he kisses me. I throw myself into the moment, pushing back all my worries and fears.
I’ve lived a life of suffering for a long time now, and this glimpse of pleasure is like an oasis. This is my one night to feel something better, and although I know it’s a huge risk, I can’t stop myself.
After a long, sensual kiss, he pulls back and lifts the bottle of champagne to his mouth. He takes a pull then tilts my chin back and pours some into my mouth. I swallow the bubbles and he kisses me again. I taste the tingling champagne on his tongue as I slowly grind my hips against him.
